Keep Your Friends Close
by Tonya
Summary: ***Finished*** Wesley finds a new purpose in his life in the last place he ever expected. (Contains S3 spoilers!!)
1. Default Chapter

Title: Keep Your Friends Close

Author: Tonya (tigerlily1998@hotmail.com)

Disclaimer: The usuals. No own. No sue.

Rating: PG/PG-13 (?)

Spoilers: Pretty much ALL of Season 3 AtS…

Summary: Wesley finds a new purpose in his life in the last place he ever expected. (Kinda AU because Connor has not returned which means that none of the events of "Tomorrow" have occurred *except* Lilah and Wesley sleeping together.)

**********

Wesley stepped out of the scalding shower with a sigh.

He had taken a shower the night before, trying to rid himself of the scent of Lilah, but even now, as he stepped out of his third shower within hours, he still couldn't lose her. She clung to him and wouldn't let go.

Wesley had felt low before, and he had believed that it could not have gotten any worse… He had been wrong. Last night, when he had found himself in the lawyer's arms, it had gotten worse. Apocalypse kind of worse. The worse that a person could not return from.

He needed to return. Wallowing in his guilt was getting him nowhere. He needed to find a purpose in his life again. Something to keep him going. Something to keep him from drinking himself into an alcoholic coma. He couldn't allow Lilah to drag him down, no matter how much he believed he deserved it.

His bath towel wrapped around his waist, Wesley stepped into his bedroom, glancing momentarily at the morning's newspaper that lay open on his bed.

A small headline in the corner caught his attention—"Female Inmate Released Today".

Wesley finished the small article before heading towards his closet, confident that he had just received the first glimpse of his renewed purpose.

**********

Good behavior.

That had been the parole board's last words to her, and Faith still had a hard time comprehending what was happening to her. 

They were letting her go. She had served merely part of her time, but she had served it well. Now, they wanted her to return to a normal life. Of course she would have to check in with her parole officer periodically, but for the most part, they had given her her life back.

She was relieved, ecstatic, but at the same time, she was crestfallen. Prison had at least given her one thing she had always needed in life, whether she had wanted it or not—stability. Every morning when she woke up, she knew exactly what was on the schedule—when she would eat, what she would eat, where she would sleep.

Now, it was different. 

She had told the board that she would be staying with her friend until she could get on her feet. She had given them the only address she had had stored away in the far corners of her mind—Cordelia's apartment. There had been no way in hell that she would have shown up on the girl's doorstep, but that was the only address she could think of.

If push came to shove, she supposed that she could appeal to Cordelia in order to find Angel. He would be happy to give her somewhere to live… Of course, Faith hadn't even heard from Angel since his last visit a few years ago so maybe he wouldn't be as welcoming to her as she had hoped…

With a frown, Faith adjusted her duffel bag as she walked out of the prison gate. As the guard locked the gate behind her, Faith looked back towards the facility, her frown deepening. When she looked back up the paved road, she saw a male figure standing off in the distance, watching her.

Faith glanced over her shoulder for a moment to make sure she was the only one leaving the facility. Finding that she was in fact the only inmate released, she adjusted the duffel bag strap again before crossing her arms over her chest and approaching the person, trying her best to exude confidence.

Only when she was within an arm's reach of him did Faith finally recognize him.

Giving Wesley the once over, all Faith could do was laugh. This was not her former Watcher. The jeans. The snug black T-shirt. The tousled hair and slight beard. The lack of glasses. She wasn't quite sure who this man before her was, but he definitely was _not_ the Wesley Wyndham-Pryce that she had known.

"Well," she laughed quietly, "Look who went and got an attitude."

"Hello, Faith," he replied, casually crossing his arms over his chest.

Faith couldn't help but smirk. "Hi." She glanced around for a moment, looking for the rest of the entourage. "So, where's the rest of the gang?"

"Just me," he shrugged.

"Oh," she replied, trying to hide the slight disappointment in her voice. She didn't know what or who she had expected to be waiting for her on the other side. She had entered prison alone, and it was only appropriate that that would be how she would leave. "So, what's the deal here? Come to get your revenge on me since I'm finally out?"

"No, I was actually coming to offer you a haven."

Faith fell silent at his words. 

A haven. She had spent a lot of time imagining what her first encounter with Wesley post-release would be like. She had imagined a hateful glare, even a few vicious words. She definitely expected a "piss off" to come her way, but she never in a million years expected this. Wesley, the man she had teased and tortured for her own enjoyment, offering her a sanctuary.

She raised an eyebrow at him, suspicious. "_Why_?"

"Do you have anywhere else to go?" he asked simply.

Faith shifted uncomfortably, silent.

"That's what I thought," Wesley replied, turning and making his way towards his SUV.

Faith remained where she stood, her arms still crossed over her chest. 

His back still towards her as he made his way to his car, Wesley called over his shoulder, "Are you coming sometime today or not?"

A slight frown on her face, Faith gave her hair a confident toss over her shoulder with her head and started towards Wesley's car.


	2. Chapter 2

"So, _this_ is how a Watcher lives, huh?" Faith smirked, running a finger across the dining room table as she glanced around the apartment. "I expected more… I don't know… doilies and old dusty books or something."

Wesley approached her, carrying a cup of warm tea in each hand. He handed her a cup without saying a word and sat down at the table, sipping silently from his drink.

Faith looked down at the cup clasped in her hands with a quiet sigh. She looked back up at Wesley as she finally asked, "Why are you doing this? I mean, you… I tried to kill you. You do remember that, right?"

"I remember it well," he replied, watching her carefully.

"Then… _why_?"

"Because you have done your time. You have embraced your path to redemption." He paused, a bitter frown etched across his face. "Because _I_ can forgive a person's transgressions."

Faith sat down across from him, sniffing at her drink before taking a long sip. She sat her cup upon the table as she asked, "Why are you forgiving me so easily? I mean, I expected you to spit in my face and tell me to go to hell. You know, I deserve that… You have a right to pissed off at me."

"I do have a right to all that, but you also deserve my forgiveness," Wesley replied with a slight shrug.

"Huh," Faith said with a shocked smile, running her finger around the rim of her glass. "So… does Angel know I'm _back_? I mean, I haven't heard from him in a long time so…"

"Probably not. I don't claim to know the inner workings of Angel Investigations anymore. Much like yourself, we've kept very minimum contact."

Taken aback by his admission, the only word that slipped past her lips was, "Why?"

"Long story short?" he replied, sitting back in his chair. "Angel has sex with Darla, somehow creating a human baby. The baby is born, and a prophecy arises of the child's death by Angel's hands. I take the child to save him, but in the end, I end up sending him into the arms of Angel's archenemy, never to be seen again."

"Okay," Faith said with a stunned nod. "So, I guess asking what you guys have been up to while I was in the slammer is _completely_ out of the question."

"Completely."

Finishing off his drink, he stood and made his way to the sink. As he placed his empty cup within it, he said to her, "You're welcome to stay as long as you like, as long as you need."

Faith scoffed slightly at his offer. "Thanks but no thanks, man. I'll be up on my feet, kicking some ass in no time."

"Keep in mind, Faith, that you are _still_ a Slayer, and every Slayer needs a Watcher."

"A rogue Watcher for a rogue Slayer?" Faith asked with a devious grin. "The council would shit their pants."

Wesley couldn't stop the slight smirk that formed on his lips. It had been a long time since he had smiled, but what surprised him even more was who was able to finally get a smile out of him.

"I need to head out for a moment," Wesley finally said. "Why don't you start making yourself at home?"

"I guess I could," Faith replied with a slight shrug. Wesley simply nodded in acceptance as he walked out of the kitchen.

**********

Fred placed the last of Wesley's journals in the small box with a frown. It had become spring-cleaning time at Angel Investigations. Time to get rid of everything that bore Wesley's mark. She had returned his items to him once before at the hospital, but they had been in such a rush to remove items that obviously belonged to Wesley from the office that a few things had slipped by their radar. Now, it had become everyone's responsibility to find Wesley's belongings around the hotel and hide them from Angel's eyes.

"Out of sight, out of mind," Fred mumbled under her breath, her frown deepening as she placed the last of the man's journals in the box.

She could just hide the box in one of the many closets in the hotel, but to her, that didn't feel right. Wesley was still alive. He may have betrayed them greatly, but he still deserved to have his belongings in his possession.

Besides, she wanted to see him. Their last meeting had been anything but pleasant. Actually, it had been horrendous. She had let loose the feelings she had had pent up inside her since Connor's kidnapping, and none of the words had been kind. And after learning that Wesley had been the one to save her from the slimy portal slugs, the need to see him only heightened. She needed to see him, if only to get in a quick thank you before he slammed the apartment door in her face.

The box in her hands, Fred glanced around the hotel lobby before quickly making her way out the door.

**********

Faith stepped out of the shower, humming quietly as she wrapped a large blue towel around her body. She wiped her hand over the steamed mirror and smiled as her reflection stared back at her.

That had been a pleasant experience, showering by herself. No one to time how long she could bathe. No one to watch her every move. No one to try to put a move _on_ her.

She had seen many of the newer inmates learn the hard way. If you looked weak, you were screwed, and Faith understood that. She had established herself as strong the first week. She took shit from none of the other inmates, and they respected that. Earning their respect in turn meant that Faith was off-limits. No one would dare to lay their hands on her.

It still felt good to just take a shower to _take_ _a shower_. To take the time to feel just how warm the water was, feel just how hard it pounded against her body.

Faith was lost in her own reflection when she heard a faint knock upon the apartment door.

She opened the bathroom door, the steam billowing out into the hallway. "Wesley?" she called out.

As soon as his name left her lips, she silently scolded herself for her own stupidity. Wesley wouldn't be knocking on his _own_ apartment door.

Holding the towel in place with one hand, Faith walked down the hallway and towards the apartment door. She opened the door to see a thin brunette on the other side, a small cardboard box in her arms. The brunette's eyes widened at the sight of her.

"Can I help you?" Faith asked.

Fred opened her mouth a couple of times but no words escaped. A small squeak passed her lips before she finally found her voice. "Sorry, I was returning Wesley's stuff and… And I must have the wrong apartment," Fred finally managed as she glanced at the apartment number on the door again.

"You're looking for Wesley?" Faith asked, eyeing the girl.

Fred simply nodded in response.

"He's kinda out right now, but I can take his stuff for him," Faith replied, reaching for the box.

Fred handed over the box, her eyes still wide in shock as she gave the strange woman a quick once-over. "Okay… Just tell him… Um, tell him Fred stopped by."

"Cool, thanks," Faith replied with a nod, shutting the door in the girl's face.

**********

A paper bag filled with a bottle of wine and frozen dinners in his arm, Wesley entered his eerily silent apartment. He stood still for a moment at the apartment threshold, simply listening to the silence.

"Faith?" he called out after a moment.

Silence greeted him in response.

Wesley frowned as he placed the groceries upon the dining room table as he advanced down the hallway and towards his bedroom. He wasn't surprised to find that Faith had left. It was in her nature. She had always been a lone wolf, relying on no one but herself. Her trust issues were overwhelming, especially in regards to him. She had every reason _not_ to trust him. He couldn't reach out to her if she didn't trust him, and she couldn't trust him because he had betrayed her, let her down, time and time again in Sunnydale.

Wesley's frown only deepened as he realized the horrible trend forming in his life. Maybe he was never meant to be trusted by anyone. Everyone that trusted him ended up regretting that choice, Faith included.

Maybe some things never changed…

Wesley's thoughts froze in the crevices of his mind as he reached the doorway of his bedroom. Sitting Indian-style in the center of his bed was Faith. She casually flipped through a large tome that was opened in her lap.

"Making yourself at home, I see," Wesley said, crossing his arms over his chest and trying to disguise the look of relief on his face.

She looked up at him, smiling, as she ran a hand through her hair. "I knew I'd find some dusty old book somewhere in this place. You're a Watcher. It's like a rule or something."

"I didn't know you could read," he scoffed in response.

Laying the book upon the sheets, Faith's smile turned to a smirk as she crawled out of his bed and approached him. "You _always_ underestimated me. You know, there's more to me than you realize."

"I _realize_."

Faith shrugged, standing within Wesley's personal space as she messed with the zipper on his jacket. "You know what I've been craving ever since I got out?"

"What's that?" he asked, swallowing hard as she zipped and unzipped his jacket.

Faith zipped the jacket up to the collar as she smiled, "Pizza. A big greasy pizza."

Wesley smiled slightly. "Pizza?"

She nodded in response.

"I guess we'll be enjoying pizza for dinner then."

Faith winked at him in appreciation before starting down the hallway, Wesley watching her leave.


	3. Chapter 3

Author note: Big thanks to everyone who has offered me feedback. I live for the stuff!! And an even bigger thanks to Kel, the world's best beta. Girl, you rock. Now, on with your regularly scheduled fic already in progress….

**********

Cordelia sighed loudly at her desk, tapping the eraser of her pencil rhythmically against the wood. She could feel the slow scream rising up in her body, and she was very close to letting it out.

For the past hour, Fred had been walking back and forth before her desk. She'd walk to the left and fidget with an object on a counter. She'd walk to the _right_ and fidget with _another_ insignificant object on _another_ insignificant counter. Back and forth. Back and forth. She had not stopped.

"Fred!!" Cordelia finally exclaimed, tossing her pencil onto her desk. "Would you just say what's on your mind already before you _walk a_ _hole in the floor_?"

Freezing in front of Cordelia's desk, Fred replied with an innocent smile, "Nothing's on my mind."

"So, there's no real motive behind your let's-see-if-we-can-drive-Cordy-insane walk _besides_ driving me insane?"

"Okay," Fred sighed, fidgeting with a dainty butterfly bracelet on her wrist. She glanced around the lobby for a moment to assure no one was listening to their conversation before leaning in and whispering, "It's Wesley."

"What about him?"

"I think… I think maybe you should go to see him."

Cordelia frowned in response. "I _will_… when the time is right. Right now, I need to focus on Angel and getting Connor back."

"But Cordelia…"

"Look, Fred, Wes and I go far back. I won't deny that, but _he took Angel's son_. Wes is my friend, and I will go see him eventually because he _is_, and will always _be_, my friend. But not right now…"

Fred shrugged slightly. "I just thought that maybe if _you_ talked with him…"

"Fred, why are you on this Wesley thing suddenly?"

Fred shifted her weight uncomfortably before admitting, "I… I went to his apartment this afternoon to return some of his belongings I found lying around the hotel. You all told me that we had to clean his stuff out and I did, but then I got to thinking that maybe we should take his stuff to him and…"

"Fred," Cordelia interrupted, concerned by the girl's nervous ramble, "what did he say to you?"

Fred fidgeted with her bracelet more intensely as she began to babble again, "Actually, he wasn't there. There was… A naked woman answered his door. Well, not _naked_ naked because she was wearing this big fluffy bath towel but…"

Cordelia held up her hand to stop Fred's ramble as she asked, "A naked woman answered his door?"

Fred nodded. "She was pretty." With a mumble she added, "In a skanky kind of way."

Cordelia sat back in her chair, letting the news sink in for a moment. After the moment passed, she frowned deeply and sighed. "What is it with men and drowning their guilt by sleeping with skanky women?"

"But Wesley wouldn't do that," Fred argued, even as her face showed her doubt.

"He's a guy," Cordelia fumed. "Of course, he'd do _that_."

"Not Wesley," Fred said, shaking her head, determined. "He's a good man. He would never do that."

"And a few weeks ago, we would have said that he would never betray us like he did, but he _did_. Wesley may be a good man, Fred, but he's not the man we all thought we knew."

Cordelia turned her attention back to her computer as Fred remained in front of her desk, silent. Fred took a deep breath before asking again, "Could you talk to him, Cordelia? Please?"

Cordelia closed her eyes, breathing in deeply. "I will," she said quietly, slowly opening her eyes.

Fred stood her ground, staring at Cordelia in silence.

After a moment, Cordelia turned to the girl, giving an exasperated sigh. "Look, it's getting late, and I'm sure he's going to have his hands full with his little _friend_. So, I'll go see him in the morning. It's not like he's going anywhere."

Fred finally smiled at her. "Thanks, Cordy," she praised as she finally left Cordelia in peace.

Cordelia had to give the girl credit—she didn't give up easily. She supposed it was finally time to go see Wesley, but what would she say to him once he opened his door to her? She couldn't forgive him, her heart wouldn't let her just yet, but she wanted to understand. She _needed_ to understand why he did what he did, and this would be her chance to finally hear the story in Wesley's own words.

**********

"Even with the whole kick-ass-now, ask-questions-later makeover, you're still a stuffy British guy at heart," Faith teased as he filled her wineglass.

"I'll take that as a compliment," he replied as he placed the bottle in the center of the table with the open pizza box. He sat down across from her as she took a big bite out of her slice of pepperoni pizza. 

"So, how was your stay at the prison?" he asked, before taking a bite of his own slice.

Swallowing hard, Faith replied with an exaggerated giggle, "It was a total blast. Everyday we got to sit around and draw pictures of rainbows and tell stories. And every night, we had pillow fights and painted each others toenails and braided each other's hair."

Wesley smirked in response. "Glad to see your sarcasm remains intact."

Faith laughed, taking a large sip from her glass. "It wasn't any different than any other day in my life. It was all about staying out of trouble, or at least not getting _caught_, and proving that you take shit from no one."

"And you learned nothing else?" Wesley asked, genuinely curious.

"No, I learned," Faith replied, her expression turning serious. "I've learned from my mistakes. I have."

"I believe you," Wesley replied earnestly, taken aback by the distressed look hidden in the girl's dark eyes.

"Do you?" she asked, skeptical.

"I do." He shrugged as he added with a smirk, "You've always been a quick learner."

"I have to be. Not a lot of second chances when it comes to the guards," Faith replied, biting into her pizza. "You bust someone's skull in the yard, and they won't hesitate to bust yours."

"I guess that's a good lesson to learn in life, but at least now you won't have to worry about all that."

"For now." She finished off her drink and reached across the table, grabbing the wine bottle and refilling her glass to the rim.

Wesley raised an eyebrow at her as he asked, "You plan on murdering someone sometime soon?"

"Authority hates me," was her response.

"That doesn't exactly answer my question, Faith."

"Authority _hates_ me," she repeated. "It's only a matter of time before I slip up, and do something that pisses them off. It's just the way my life works. I'm all about living my life to the fullest, pushing the boundaries, you know. That's what makes me feel the most alive. That doesn't mesh well with authority. You should know from experience."

Reaching for a second slice, Wesley replied, "Living your life to the fullest doesn't always have to involve you getting into trouble."

"Isn't that some kind of oxymoron?" Faith smirked.

"It doesn't have to be."

"Look," Faith replied with a soft sigh, "don't worry about me. I got a handle on it. If I can survive a couple of apocalypses, I can survive this crap." She grabbed a second slice of pizza as she continued, "Besides, I'm sick of talking about me. So, who's Fred?"

"Fred?" Wesley's voice perked at the mention of Winifred. 

"Yeah, the girl who dropped off all those journals and stuff of yours."

"Angel Investigations has grown since you last saw us. Fred's one of our newest members. I guess you could call her the brains of the operation now."

Faith bit her lower lip before replying, "I know you said it was off-limits, but what's the deal with you and this whole separation from Angel and Cordelia?"

"It's a long story," Wesley sighed, sitting back in his chair.

Faith leaned forward in her own chair with a slight shrug. "It's not like I've got anywhere else to be."

Wesley took a few large gulps from his glass before talking. "Last year, after a dark period, Angel had sex with his ex-vampire lover Darla…"

"And I hit the pause," Faith interrupted with a tilt of her glass. "Okay, I know I wasn't the best Slayer-student, but I thought that anytime Angel got laid, we were all screwed… so to speak."

"And technically we should have been," Wesley shrugged, "but we weren't. It turned out that his little rendezvous with Darla ended up creating a _human_ child." Wesley paused for a moment, raising an expectant eyebrow at Faith as he asked, "Would you like to hit the pause again?"

"No," Faith replied, sipping from her drink, "I'll tell ya when."

Wesley nodded, a slight smirk on his face. "Darla staked herself in order to allow the child to live. He seemed perfectly normal—ten little fingers, ten little toes, a beating heart. Completely human." 

His smirk softened into a reminiscent smile as he mentally recalled Connor's early days with the family. "Connor, Angel called him. A good Irish name. He became Angel's reason to be, like any child to a new parent."

The smile turned to a deep frown as he continued, "A prophecy arose that the father would kill the son, which I took to mean that Angel would kill Connor. So to stop what I believed to be the inevitable, I took the child. In the end, I was tricked. Tricked by everyone. The child was taken from my arms as my throat was slit and I was left for dead."

Wesley watched Faith's dark eyes travel down to his neck, searching for the scar she had failed to notice throughout the entire day. Her eyes met Wesley's piercing blues again as he said, "And that's where the story ends. I betrayed my friends, who will probably _never_ forgive me. I'm out of a job, and thus am searching for some other means to bring money into my home. My life is frankly empty and worth nothing right about now."

"Wow," she frowned. "That really… _sucks_. I wish I could come up with a better word than that, but I kinda can't get past _sucks_."

"I think _sucks_ would be the most appropriate word at the moment," Wesley replied, finishing off his drink.

The two sat in silence for a moment, neither knowing what else to say. It seemed that everything had been said. The secrets had been spilled. The dark crevices had been revealed.

Faith finished off her second slice of pizza, tossing her uneaten crust back into the box. She wiped her hands on her napkin as she smirked, "And _that_, ladies and gentlemen, is how you successfully bring down the room."

"How ironic that it's _my_ life that is depressing _you_," Wesley scoffed as he poured the remainder of the wine into his glass.

"You know," Faith replied, pointing a slender finger at him, "the old Faith would have gotten up from this table and mopped the floor with your ass, but I'll let that little remark of yours slide this time. That one was free. The next will cost ya."

"I'll keep that in mind," Wesley smiled.

"So," Faith sighed, running a hand through her hair. "What do you do for fun around here besides brood and feel guilty and read your stuffy old books?"

"Do you play darts?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

Faith raised her eyebrow as well. "You shoot pool?"


	4. Chapter 4

"Drink?" Wesley asked as he and Faith stepped up to the bar of one of many of LA's local taverns.

"Why not? Vodka on the rocks."

Wesley laughed quietly at her. "A little strong, don't you think? It's still quite early."

"Yeah, maybe I can get one of your little _girlie_ drinks," Faith scoffed. "Maybe something with an umbrella in it or pink with a cute little name."

"What can I get you two?" the bartender asked as he approached them.

"Two vodkas on the rocks," Wesley replied, his eyes never leaving Faith's as she raised her eyebrows at him expectantly.

"Good man," she smiled, her arms crossed over her chest. "You grab the drinks, and I'll snag us a table."

With a wink, she started off towards the billiards room, disappearing amongst the sea of people.

Before Wesley could even form a thought, a familiar voice came from behind him, "Well, look who's back on the prowl."

"Lilah," he growled, turning to face the woman. "You know, this little thing of yours is getting tiresome. I thought it would end after last night."

"Oh, please," Lilah smirked, sipping from her drink. "Don't flatter yourself. You and I both know that it's you who's been thinking of me."

"Is there a reason you're here?" Wesley sighed, irritated. "Besides utilizing valuable air and space?"

"Always so snippy, Wesley," Lilah smiled. "I like that about you. I'm here to remind you that the job offer still stands, and seeing that you're still very unemployed, I just thought you could use the little reminder."

"You know exactly where you can put your little job offer."

Lilah laughed softly in response. "You can only live off your savings for so long." She sipped from her drink before nodding towards the billiards room, "So, who's the little jailbait with you tonight?"

Wesley chuckled under his breath.

"Care to share the joke?" she sneered at him.

"Just pondering how appropriate the term jailbait is in this case."

Lilah raised a perfectly arched eyebrow at him in response, "I'm sorry?"

Wesley chuckled again, crossing his arms over his chest. "You don't recognize her."

"You can only recognize so much about a person from the back of their head," Lilah shrugged. 

"That little piece of jailbait is quite that," Wesley replied, a smug smirk forming on his lips. "She's Faith. You remember her, don't you?"

The corner of her mouth twitched at his admission. She sipped casually from her drink before replying, "So your little Slayer is out, huh? I figured it was about time for her parole hearing."

"It was today, actually," Wesley answered, his smugness never wavering. He stood confidently, his head held high, as he watched Lilah attempt to cover her tracks. "It's her first night out. I'm showing her the town."

"Your drinks, sir," the bartender said, sitting down two cups on the bar.

Wesley nodded and handed the man a ten. "Keep the change," he said as he retrieved the drinks.

Lilah shrugged, rattling the ice in her glass casually as she replied, "I've been breaking in a new assistant. I guess I'll be doing it literally now, huh?" 

At that moment, Faith approached them, two pool cues in her hands. "Did you have to go to the actual company to get our drinks?" she complained as she stood beside Wesley.

"I was just on my way actually," he replied. His smile grew as he motioned towards Lilah. "Faith, let me introduce you to someone…"

"I remember you," Faith said, using her pool cue to point at Lilah. "You're that lawyer bitch that sent me after Angel."

"Lilah Morgan," she replied, offering her hand for Faith to shake. Faith glanced down at her extended hand and back up into Lilah's eyes, glaring. Lilah took her hand back nonchalantly, using it to smooth down her skirt. 

Wesley's smirk only intensified as he watched the two women interact.

"You know, you're kinda like the catalyst that ended up putting me behind bars," Faith replied with a tilt of her head. "I don't know if I should thank you or break your nose right about now."

Lilah felt herself unconsciously lean away from Faith in response. Taking a moment to recollect herself, her confidence slowly returned and she smiled innocently at Faith, "I'd forgotten what a charmer you are." 

She then turned to Wesley, still smiling. "Might wanna watch out for her. I hear that charm wears off quickly when she's angry." She paused for a moment, her sweet smile turning into a devious smirk, as she added, "But you already knew that, didn't you?"

Wesley glared at Lilah in response, his armor finally cracked by the lawyer.

"Lady, you've never seen me angry," Faith growled from beside him, taking a step closer to Lilah.

In response, Lilah hastily finished off her drink, placing it on the counter. "And on that _pleasant_ note, I bid you goodnight, Wesley. Keep in mind that job proposition." She smiled daintily at Faith as she added, "It was nice to see you again, Faith."

With that, Lilah walked between them, slightly pushing Faith out of the way, as she made her way towards the exit.

Faith mumbled a threat under her breath before turning to Wesley and asking, "She offered you a job?"

Wesley nodded, sipping from his drink. "To give her an inside look at Angel Investigations."

"Any sweet benefits?" Faith asked, eyeing him.

Wesley looked at her, incredulous.

Reading his expression, she exclaimed, "What?! I'm just saying. You need to eat, you know. Yeah, you'd have to listen to _her_ run her mouth but…"

"Faith, no."

"I'm just saying that you got to do what you got to do sometimes." She paused, curious. "Are you honestly going to stand there and tell me that you haven't at least _thought_ about taking the job?"

Wesley sipped from his drink and walked off towards the billiards room. As he walked away, both drinks in his hands, he called over his shoulder, "Of course I haven't."

Faith stood by the bar for a moment, watching Wesley leave, the skepticism emblazoned across her face.

*********

Wesley lay in his bed, his arm draped over his eyes. Feeling a new wave of nausea rising inside him, he breathed deeply in an attempt to hold back the urge to throw up. If he let loose now, it was over. The rest of his night would be spent getting cuddly with the hard porcelain of his commode.

It had been a long time since he had drunk like he had tonight. Actually, he realized with a frown, he had never drunk like that a day in his life.

He had never been wild when he had been younger. He had been too busy studying and learning the proper ways of a Watcher to ever really rebel like the young were supposed to. No staying up 'til all hours. No drinking. No late night parties with loose girls. Nothing but him and his textbooks, his journals, his studies. 

His father had been vigilant about it. Where he had failed, he had wanted his son to succeed. At any cost. There had been no time for youthful experiences in the Wyndam-Pryce home, no toleration for temptations from Wesley's studies. No toleration for rebellion. 

Tonight, Faith had brought out that rebellious side of him. The side that he had kept hidden under the surface all his life. With her, he felt no need to hold back. He had had drink after drink, enjoying each one even more than the last. He had exuded more confidence than he had ever done before, and he had had fun…

Of course, Faith's idea of fun had been to scam a couple of drunk college boys out of a few bucks at a pool game, but it had still been fun for him. Fun in comparison to the drama that was still unfolding in his real life anyway.

The fun was only temporary. Like everything good in his life, it would fade eventually. He would wake tomorrow with a pounding head, a queasy stomach, and a reminder of what his life was really like. Empty. Painful. Sickening. Everything that his night at the bar with Faith had not been.

A small squeak of the hinges of his bedroom door brought Wesley from his thoughts.

He slowly sat up on his elbows, squinting at the doorway. Faith, dressed in a T-shirt and a pair of boxers that Wesley had loaned her, leaned against the doorframe, back-lit by a light from down the hall. 

"Faith?" he asked, his eyes slowly adjusting to the light. 

"You know, Wesley," she replied, her arms crossed over her chest, "I've never really officially apologized for what I did to you."

Wesley remained silent.

"You were a pain in my ass, you realize. Back in Sunnydale," she continued as she uncrossed her arms and placed her hand on the doorknob, twisting it back and forth gently.

"The same could be said for you," he replied with a yawn.

"Everything about you pissed me off. The voice. The clothes. All the crappy orders you always tried to give me and B."

"Faith," Wesley sighed, "You realize that it is normally customary for an apology—which I believe this is leading up to—to contain far fewer insults."

"I hated you back then. _Hated_ you."

"Yes, well, you were not alone in that hatred. I definitely was not Mister Popularity amongst the Sunnydale population."

"And you hated me."

Wesley began to shake his head, but stopped short, as he realized that the room began to spin as he did so. "You couldn't be more wrong, Faith. I never hated you. I hated the fact that I couldn't control either you or Buffy, that you would always ignore my every instruction, but never did I hate you."

Faith laughed quietly to herself, her eyes on the carpet. She gently twisted her toes into the soft rug as her laughter faded away. As she looked back up into Wesley's eyes, her expression turned serious again. "I'm sorry."

Wesley sat up completely, his back resting against the headboard of his bed. 

"I don't say that to many people so… So I don't really know what else I'm supposed to say." She shrugged slightly, running a hand through her tousled mane. "But I'm sorry."

"Thank you," Wesley replied quietly. "I appreciate you saying it."

Faith simply nodded, a slight smile at the corner of her mouth. She leaned in the doorway for a moment longer, watching him, before finally removing herself from the threshold.

"Night, Wes," she called over her shoulder as she disappeared back down the hallway.

"Goodnight, Faith."

Wesley sat up for a moment longer, listening to the sound of Faith's footsteps depart. He heard the familiar sound of his couch cushions compressing as Faith made herself comfortable. The light that had illuminated the hallway disappeared as he faintly heard the sound of the TV in the background.

He smiled to himself, sliding back under his covers with a sigh.

__

Apparently I'm not the only one full of surprises, he mused.


	5. Chapter 5

Lilah sat at her desk, silently fuming, as she tapped a French-manicured nail upon the oak finish.

Everything had been going perfectly. Wesley had fallen for her charms, and he had been inching closer and closer to her side of the playing field. She had had him right where she wanted him. It wouldn't have been long before he finally joined Wolfram and Hart. He had no reason not to. His friends had abandoned him in his darkest hour, leaving him to wallow alone in his own guilt. Then, she had stepped in and offered him a deal he could not refuse.

Of course, he refused it, but for only so long. Lilah could see him caving with each of their meetings. And after their last encounter, Lilah was quite sure that she had broken him but now….

Now the rules of the game had changed.

Lilah had worked diligently to strip every last bit of humanity out of the man, every last piece of human dignity that remained. Now all her work had apparently been for nothing.

The man still held strong to his principles. She had to give him proper credit for that, but it still irritated her more than anything in the world. She couldn't successfully turn him into a proper Wolfram and Hart insider if he kept acting all noble.

Taking in the woman who had tortured him. What the hell kind of nonsense was that? Lilah wasn't sure exactly what Wesley's plan was, but whatever it was, it was working. She could tell the other night. 

Every other night when she had visited him, he had been different. He had been moody, and that had not changed last night, but he had also been a man on the edge. The edge of despair. He was at his breaking point; Lilah could see it in his eyes. Not last night, though. Last night had changed. The despair was gone. He had had the nerve to have some sense of hope. Teaming up with that psychotic bitch had brought the man hope of some sort.

"Bullshit," Lilah fumed quietly under her breath.

She was not going to lose another project. Especially a project that she had been _so_ close to finalizing. No, she would not give the Senior Partners the joy of seeing her fail yet again. 

God only knew what another failure would bring her way. She had seen it too many times with her own eyes. An associate would fail, and they would pay gravely in return. Failure meant eating your own liver. Failure meant waking up and finding your family slain. Failure meant never waking up again.

Lilah could not fail again.

"If he doesn't want to play by the rules anymore," she spoke aloud to herself as she reached for her phone, "then I'll just change the game."

**********

Wesley stumbled into the kitchen, his navy robe tied loosely around his waist. He still felt slightly nauseous, as if his stomach was infested with millions of butterflies fighting for their freedom. 

He had spent the majority of the night awake, staring at the ceiling and trying not to think about the bile that continued to rise up periodically into his throat. He had been awake long enough to hear Faith finally disappear into slumber. She had been up for a while, laughing at a television program, before finally cutting off the TV and relaxing. He had thought about her as he laid in the overwhelming silence of his own apartment. About her apology.

It had surprised him, to say the least. He had thought that the chance had passed. They had danced around what she had done to him during each of their conversations, but never had she made the move to utter those two words— I'm sorry. For a while, he thought she never would. And it wouldn't have surprised him if she hadn't. That was just the way his life worked. He spent almost every second of his life apologizing for some mistake, some misstep, but no one ever did the same for him….

Wesley stopped in the doorway of the kitchen as he watched Faith fuss with his coffeemaker, uttering a few curses in its direction as she fought to get it to work. Taking notice that she was still wearing the midriff tank and low-rise jeans that she had had on the previous day, Wesley quietly slipped out of the kitchen.

When he returned, Faith had finally gotten the coffee machine to work for her. He cleared his throat to announce his presence, and Faith turned to greet him with a smile.

"Hey, it's my favorite Watcher."

"Good morning to you as well."

He approached her, handing her the sixty dollars he had retrieved from his wallet. She raised an eyebrow at him before taking the money in her own hands.

"What's this?" she asked.

"Well, us civilized people prefer to have more than one pair of jeans in our possession."

Faith handed the money back with a slight frown. "Thanks, man, but no thanks. I mean, I appreciate it and all, but I don't do charity."

"Don't think of it as charity," Wesley countered, holding the money up for her. "Think of it as… as a loan. Sooner or later, you'll pay me back."

Faith hesitated a moment before taking the money from his hands yet again. "I guess I _could_ always use a new pair of leather pants," she smirked.

"Couldn't we all," Wesley grinned. He nodded towards the coffee machine as he said, "I see you were able to get the coffeemaker to work for you."

Faith shrugged, shoving the money in her jeans pocket. "Yeah, but I warn you now that there may be a few grounds in your drink. I think your machine is out to get me."

"You believe _everyone_ is out to get you, Faith," Wesley replied, reaching into a cabinet and fetching two coffee mugs. "Care to join me?"

Faith glanced down at her watch before shaking her head. "No thanks. I think I'll just head over to the mall and pick up some new duds. If I go now, I can avoid all the crowds."

Wesley nodded, placing the extra mug on the counter. 

"I'll see you after a while," she said before turning and walking out of the kitchen.

Faith hesitated at the apartment door, her fingertips lingering on the cool doorknob, as she listened to Wesley fixing himself a cup of coffee. She glanced over her shoulder at the kitchen doorway, thinking about how Wesley seemed to surprise her time and time again. Offering her a place to sleep, a place to feel safe. Hanging out and sharing drinks with her. Accepting her apology without hesitation, and now, offering her a "loan." How the annoying Watcher who had seemed to care less about anyone but himself had changed into _this_ man, she wasn't sure. She smiled to herself, realizing that she could learn to thoroughly enjoy the company of the new-and-improved Wesley. 

Sighing gently, Faith opened the apartment door in time to be greeted by Cordelia, who had her hand raised to knock. Both women stared at each other in silence, each taken aback by the other's presence.

"Faith!" Cordelia exclaimed, her hand never lowering.

"Cordelia!" 

"You're out of jail!"

"You're…_ blonde_."

Cordelia unconsciously moved her hand to smooth down her hair. The two women continued to stand in the doorway, silently watching each other.

"Well, I need to get going," Faith finally said, walking around Cordelia and disappearing down the hallway.

Cordelia stood there for a moment as everything began to fall into place quickly. Faith had been the skanky woman that Fred had seen the other day, the woman with whom Wesley was drowning his guilt. She wasn't sure what upset her more—seeing Wesley or seeing Wesley with _her_. 

After a moment, she stepped into the apartment, shutting the door behind herself.

"Wesley?" she called out.

Wesley stepped out of the kitchen, tightening the tie on his robe. "Hello, Cordelia."

Crossing her arms over her chest, Cordelia replied, "Hello, Cordelia? That's all you can say?"

"How have you been?" he asked with a shrug.

"Don't, Wesley," Cordelia grumbled, her eyes darkened with anger.

Wesley crossed his arms over his chest with a tilt of his head. "Don't what?"

"Don't get all snide and sarcastic with me. You have absolutely no right." Placing a hand to her chest, she added bitterly, "I'm not the bad guy here."

Wesley chuckled harshly. "So I guess that makes me the bad guy."

Mimicking his stance, casually crossing her arms over her chest, she frowned, "You tell me."

Wesley shook his head slightly with a roll of his eyes. "Why are you even here, Cordelia? What purpose does this little visit of yours serve? Did you all draw straws to see who would be the lucky one to bitch at me this week?"

"I came here because I want answers. Because I deserve them."

"Do you honestly believe that?" Wesley replied darkly. "Because I don't. You had your chance…."

"No, my chance is now, and I demand answers," Cordelia declared without hesitation. "Like why the hell I'm greeted at your apartment door by Faith of all people. You remember what she did to us, right? What she did to you?"

Wesley nodded. "I remember quite well. I used to have nightmares about what she did."

Glancing at the blanket and pillow on his couch, she fumed, "And yet you've decided to be roomies with her."

"Yes, well, _I_ have forgiven Faith for her mistakes," Wesley replied, stepping back into his kitchen.

Cordelia stormed after him, stopping at the end of the dining room table. Wesley sat opposite of her, drinking from his mug.

"I can't believe you had the balls to play that card," she growled, her hands flat against the table as she leaned angrily towards him. "You cannot lay a guilt trip on me about something _you_ did. You brought this on yourself. We could have helped you, but you had to be a damn hero and save the day. We were a team, Wesley. That means that we depend on each other. We just don't go around making rash decisions for everyone." 

Cordelia frowned, the disgust evident on her face, as she took a step away from the table. Wesley simply watched her as she declared, "I don't even know who you are anymore, Wesley."

And she didn't. Looking at him, she couldn't grasp who this man was anymore. When she had left for her vacation, he had been Wesley. Her co-worker. Her best friend. Her big brother. He had been the reasonable one. The one she could always depend on to think rationally before jumping into action. He was the one who pulled Angel and Gunn back, their anchor that kept them grounded, but now… She had returned home to find that everything had changed, and apparently Wesley had been no exception.

Her eyes trailing over his darkened eyes and tired face, she wondered what happened to the Wesley she had known and loved….

Sipping from his cup, Wesley replied simply, "I could say the same of you."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I _thought_ you were my friend," Wesley replied, placing his mug upon the table. His hand clutched tightly to the body of the cup as he continued. "As I laid in the hospital, I wanted to see your face, hear your voice. I just knew you'd come because we had come so far together. I knew that even if Gunn and Fred both abandoned me, you wouldn't. We had been through too much in Sunnydale and here in LA for you to simply turn away from me.…"

"I'm sorry that I didn't come to your bedside," Cordelia said angrily, "but I was kinda busy comforting my other good friend whose child had just been taken away from him." Cordelia sighed, frustrated, as she tucked a stray hair behind her ear. "This is wrong. I don't even know why I'm here. I told Fred that it wasn't time yet."

Wesley stood with a bitter laugh, returning to his coffeemaker. "Fred sent you, huh? And here I was thinking that you came on your own free will."

His back to her, Wesley slowly fixed himself a fresh cup of coffee as Cordelia spat, "Wesley, you stole Angel's child."

"I did not steal Connor. I was trying to protect him."

"Protect him? Protect him from what? Fred told me about the prophecy, Wesley. It was fake. Angel was never going to kill Connor."

"Yes, Fred was kind enough to inform me in the hospital," he replied, slowly stirring sugar into his coffee.

Cordelia crossed her arms in response. "You're the one who jumped to the conclusion. You're the one who thought it was a great idea to steal your best friend's child. You know, I have lots of reasons to hate the Powers That Be. I mean, I could make you one hell of a list, but this is _one_ thing that I cannot blame on them. This is all your fault, Wesley."

Wesley gently tapped his spoon on the edge of his cup as her last words stung him. "Isn't it always?" he mumbled. "I have always been the perfect scapegoat."

"You know, any other time, I would be the first one at your defense. I'd be the first one to have your back, but… But right now…" Cordelia paused as she felt her frustration begin to rise within her. "But right now, I hate you…"

Wesley closed his eyes at those words, biting his lower lip.

"I hate what you've done to Angel, to all of us. You've broken so many hearts with one little action, crushed so many spirits." Cordelia held her arms even closer to her body. "I just… I just want to strangle you. Just shake you and ask why…"

Wesley turned his eyes towards the ceiling as he continued to listen in silence.

"I just can't understand, Wesley," Cordelia sighed, finally dropping her arms to her side. "Why would you do this to us? Why would you willingly hand Connor over to a man who could care less whether Angel lives or dies?"

Wesley finally turned to her, the anger evident in his eyes. "Is that what you believe? That I just handed Connor over to that vile bastard?"

Cordelia hesitated for a moment before nodding slightly. "Yes, that's what I believe."

Wesley scoffed in response, shaking his head. "Then _I_ believe that you do not know me as well as you think."

"Then tell me I'm wrong, Wesley," she replied. "Tell me that you didn't visit Holtz behind our backs. Lorne read you the night it happened, and he saw it."

"I did visit Holtz, but not for the reasons you believe. I went to him to tell him to let go of his vendetta against Angel. To tell him that innocent people were going to die if he didn't give up this crusade of his."

"And that's the _only_ reason?"

Wesley simply nodded.

"Then what happened, Wesley? If the big plan wasn't to give Connor to Holtz, then what was it?"

His fresh cup of coffee in his hands, Wesley returned to his seat with a heavy sigh. Following his lead, Cordelia sat down across from him.


	6. Chapter 6

Faith walked down the sidewalk, taking everything in—the smells, the sights, the sounds. She never realized how much she had missed the little things like this. Even downtown, with its loud traffic and the mixed smell of bakeries and pollution, was nothing but pleasant for her.

As she walked, her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of an argument coming from a nearby alleyway. She quickly made her way over to investigate, and stopped at the opening of the alleyway, watching for a moment. 

In the alley, a man and a woman argued. He had her pinned roughly against the brick wall of the adjacent bakery as they yelled at each other. The woman was holding her ground verbally, but Faith could tell that the much larger man was winning the physical battle.

Faith couldn't help but smile. It had been a long time since she had had a good fight.…

"Hey pal," she grinned.

The man turned to her, frowning. "This is none of your business, lady."

"You wanna play rough?" she asked, approaching them. "I like to play rough."

"I said this was none of your business," the man growled, taking a swing at her.

Faith side-stepped the punch easily, backhanding him across the jaw with her fist. As the man reached up to touch the blood that trickled down the corner of his mouth, Faith grabbed his free arm and slammed him, face-first, into the brick wall with ease.

"Really, pal, you should choose your battles more wisely." She smiled down at the man as he collapsed upon the pavement, unconscious.

The blonde, who had remained against the wall the entire time, looked at Faith with wide eyes. 

Faith turned to the woman with a warm smile. "You okay?" she asked.

In response, the woman lunged herself at Faith, hugging her tightly around the neck. "Thank you so much."

"Okay," Faith laughed quietly, gently trying to remove the woman from her body.

The woman, however, remained tightly attached to Faith.

"_Okay_," Faith repeated, tugging at the woman's arms a little harder.

As the woman's hold loosened, Faith felt a small prick at her neck.

"What the hell?" Faith asked, roughly removing the woman and pushing her across the alley into the brick wall. She glanced down at the empty syringe in the woman's hand as she touched her neck.

She took a threatening step towards the woman but stopped short as her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she fell to the ground beside the man she had just beaten.

"Just doing my job," the blonde replied with a smile.

**********

Wesley and Cordelia sat at the table, neither speaking.

He had shared with her what had really happened that fateful night. How he had taken Connor with every intention of raising the child out of harm's way. How his sympathy and trust in others had led to his downfall. How Justine had left him for dead in the park as she ran off with Connor. How he had thought he was going to die that night in the park, and how, it had been his need to see his friends again that had kept him alive.

"So, there's no longer a need to assume," he said, standing and walking towards the sink with his empty mug. "Now you know the truth."

"I guess I do, and I suppose you deserve the same."

"What are you talking about?"

"Connor… Holtz escaped with him into a hell dimension."

Wesley dropped his mug into the sink, cracking it along the base. He turned to Cordelia as she continued, "Quar-toth or something like that. Angel tried to reopen the portal but…"

"A _hell_ dimension?"

Cordelia simply nodded.

"I… I don't know what to say."

Cordelia stood with a sigh. "Neither do I."

They stared at each other in silence as the phone began to ring. After a moment, Wesley retrieved the portable from the kitchen counter with a frown.

"Hello," he sighed.

"Wesley, why so down?" Lilah greeted him.

Hearing her voice, Wesley caught Cordelia's eye. He walked by her and into the living room as he replied quietly, "Do you ever give up?"

"Look, I'd love to trade our usual insults, but we have some business to attend to."

"We do?"

"Seems that a certain friend of yours is keeping me company, and boy, is she a feisty one."

"Faith," he mumbled in response. "Lilah, this has always been between me and you…."

"Yes, it has, and now it's between me, you, and her." She paused before continuing, "So, you finally ready to play?"

"Lilah…"

"The abandoned warehouse on Preston," Lilah replied, ignoring the threatening tone in Wesley's voice. "Come alone, and we'll discuss how you can save the last ally you have."

"You touch her and I'll…"

Lilah scoffed in response. "Save your insults for someone who gives a damn."

Wesley hung up his phone, tossing it angrily at the couch.

"Wesley, what's going on?" Cordelia asked as he stormed past her and towards his bedroom.

"I don't have time to explain, Cordelia," he called over his shoulder as she followed close behind him.

"Why is Lilah calling you?" she asked, standing in the doorway.

Wesley grabbed a pair of slacks from his closet and pulled them on underneath his robe. "Cordelia, not right now!"

"She has Faith, right?"

"Yes," he simply said, removing his robe and tossing it on his bed.

Wesley grabbed a T-shirt from his closet and pulled it on as Cordelia asked, "And you're going to go save her?"

He quickly pulled on his sneakers. "Yes."

"I'm coming with you," Cordelia replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

"No," Wesley replied, pushing by her and heading towards his apartment door.

Following close behind him, Cordelia frowned. "You go by yourself and you'll get yourself killed."

"You go with me and you'll get Faith killed," he replied, finally turning to her.

"Wesley…"

"Cordelia, I'm no longer your boss so I can't order you not to go, but the fact still remains that we no longer work together. Your allegiance is with Angel, and that's where it should stay. Don't involve yourself here." He sighed as he opened the apartment door. "You were right about one thing, Cordelia. It's _not_ time yet."

Wesley walked out of the apartment, leaving Cordelia alone.


	7. Chapter 7

****

***Special Note: Thanks to all those who offered feedback and thanks to my cheerleader and beta Kel. This story will be continued in a series of stories I'm in the process of writing. Look for the very first installment within days.***

**********

When Cordelia stepped into the Hyperion, Fred was waiting patiently for her at her desk. Seeing the girl, Cordelia couldn't stop the frown that was forming on her face. She had let the girl down. Fred had been depending on Cordelia to talk some sense into Wesley, to bring him back into the fold. 

Now as Fred eagerly got to her feet to greet her, Cordelia could only think about how she had failed her.

"Did you see him?" Fred asked, the expectation clearly etched across her delicate features.

"Yeah, I did," Cordelia sighed, removing her jacket and placing it across the back of her chair.

"And?"

"And it sucked, Fred," she replied, flopping down into her chair. She leaned forward, resting her chin in the palm of her hand as she added, "It completely and utterly sucked."

"Oh," Fred replied quietly, the disappointment evident in her voice. She stood silently before Cordelia for a moment before asking, "And the woman I saw?"

"The Slayer," Cordelia mumbled without thinking.

Fred hesitated for a moment before raising a curious eyebrow. "The Slayer?"

Cordelia simply nodded, staring off into space.

"But…but I thought she was blonde…." 

Cordelia finally snapped back to reality, looking up at Fred apologetically. "No, not Buffy," she explained. "Faith."

"The Slayer," Fred simply repeated, a slight frown on her face.

"Yes."

"But you guys said that there could only be one for every generation. And if Buffy's a Slayer, and this Faith girl's a Slayer… That's not logistically possible."

"How long have you worked with us, Fred?" Cordelia asked, sitting back in her chair. "_Anything_ is logistically possible." She sighed as she began to explain, "When Buffy died the _first_ time, another Slayer was called to replace her. When that Slayer bit the big one, Faith was called. Hence, the two Slayers."

"That makes sense… I guess," Fred replied, her brow furrowing gently. 

Silence fell between the women again before Fred asked quietly, "How was he?"

Cordelia shrugged. "Okay, I guess. I don't know. I didn't really take the time to ask.…"

"But you guys talked, right? And by talked, I don't mean yelled at each other."

Cordelia ran her finger back and forth across the smooth finish of her desk as she replied, "I don't know about yelling, but… But some things were definitely said."

"Good things?" Fred asked, her voice perked with hope.

Cordelia took a deep breath before turning her eyes to Fred's. "Some."

"Do you think he'll… he'll come back?"

"If he's a smart man, he won't," Angel growled from the doorway.

Taken aback by his sudden appearance, both women's eyes flew to him instantly. 

He stood tall in the doorway, his arms crossed over his broad chest. He watched them, a deep frown on his lips.

Fred turned her eyes away nervously as Cordelia held his stare, never wavering under his piercing gaze. Fred looked to Cordelia before stammering, "Maybe I should do some research on that one case we looked at that one time."

Her head slightly down, a nervous smile twitching upon her face, Fred squeezed past Angel in the doorway. His eyes followed her as she passed him, and he turned his head slightly to watch her depart over his shoulder. He listened to her footsteps quickly departing up the hotel staircase before turning his attention back to Cordelia.

"You can just wipe that you've-betrayed-me-Cordy look off your face, Angel," she frowned, watching him as he continued to hover in the doorway.

"You went and saw him," he grumbled in response.

"Yes, I did," she replied, standing and leaning back against the edge of her desk.

"You went and saw him," Angel repeated darkly.

Cordelia nodded. "I think we've established that, Angel."

Angel nodded slightly as he finally stepped into the office. He strode past Cordelia and towards the bookcase behind her desk. "So," he replied, pulling a book partly from the shelving. "How is Wesley?" He pushed the book back into place, turning to Cordelia.

Cordelia frowned, knowing that Angel truly didn't care how the man was. "He's… he's okay."

"He's okay," Angel replied with a nod. He turned back to the bookcase, slowly removing the book he had had in his hands moments before. With a growl, he turned and hurled the book angrily across the room. 

Cordelia felt herself jump as the book collided violently with the wall behind her. 

Angel's eyes burned with contempt as he growled, "That bastard doesn't deserve _okay_. He deserves to feel what I feel—the pain, the suffering." He balled his fist tightly as he continued, "He deserves to have what little spine he has ripped from his body."

Cordelia flinched slightly as she watched Angel's angry fist jerk upward. 

Taking a moment to calm himself, he recrossed his arms, asking, "So what did you and Wesley talk about?"

"The crappy LA weather," Cordelia frowned. "Angel, you know exactly what we talked about."

"How he handed my child over to my worst enemy?"

She turned her chair to face him before sitting down. "Actually," she sighed, "he never planned to give Connor to Holtz."

"And I'm supposed to believe him because?"

Cordelia leaned forward, resting her arms against her thighs and clasping her hands together. "Because that's what he told me. Yes, he was taking Connor away, but he was going away as well. He was going to raise Connor away from LA until he felt the danger had passed."

Angel grunted in response, shaking his head slightly.

"Okay, I know that doesn't make what he did any better, but it does change things, Angel. How, I don't know, but it does."

"Changes things?" Angel said, his voice dripping with bitterness. "My son is still gone. Into a hell dimension, Cordelia."

"I know," Cordelia replied quietly, sitting back in her chair.

Angel watched Cordelia for a moment, his arms never unfolding but his muscles relaxing slightly. "My son is still gone, and Wesley's still alive. I should have killed the damn traitor when I had the chance. That would have changed things," Angel replied hoarsely, turning and making his way out of the office.

Cordelia jumped to her feet quickly, nearly knocking her chair over in the process. "He's mixed up in some stuff now," she frowned. "It can't be good. I mean, he got a phone call from Lilah…."

Angel stopped in the doorway, listening. His head raised high and his back still towards her, he asked, "Lilah? Wolfram and Hart's Lilah?"

"Do we know any other evil lawyers named Lilah?"

Angel stood silent for a moment before turning back to Cordelia. He took a step towards her, and Cordelia instinctively took a step back, slightly knocking into her chair. His voice was darker than she had ever heard before as he growled, "It's not bad enough that he steals my child, but now he's working for the embodiment of evil itself?"

"Maybe we shouldn't jump to conclusions, Angel," she replied, holding up her hands to calm him, to show him that she was not the enemy. "I mean, from the sound of it, they're not exactly buddy-buddy. Apparently, she's kidnapped Faith, and now he's gone off on this suicide mission to save her."

"Faith?" he asked, surprised by the mention of the volatile Slayer. He leaned away from Cordelia as he found himself wondering when Faith had been released and why he hadn't heard about it. 

Cordelia relaxed, dropping her arms. "Yeah, she's out. Didn't take her long to get in trouble," she mumbled with a slight roll of her eyes. "Apparently, she and Wesley _are_ buddy-buddy now."

"Why are you even telling me this?"

"Because.…" Cordelia paused with an agitated sigh. "Because this is Wesley going up against Wolfram and Hart. This isn't going to end pretty, Angel. He's either going to get himself killed or get both him _and_ Faith killed…"

"Ask me if I care," Angel grumbled, turning and walking away.

"Angel…. Angel!" she called after him, but he didn't stop.

Cordelia stood alone in the office and growled angrily. She crossed her arms over her chest as she silently fumed, a deep frown on her face.

**********

Wesley walked into the warehouse, his footsteps echoing on the hard concrete floor. To his right, a light shone over a large wall of empty crates. He remained close to the wall of crates, his fingers trailing the brittle wood as he gradually made his way closer to the edge of the wall. Paying no attention to the wood pricking his fingers, he attempted to listen intently for any movements other than his own. It was hard, however. With every step or movement, the sound would echo off the high ceilings and empty walls, making every sound seem like it was coming from elsewhere in the warehouse.

Wesley stopped at the edge of the crates, trying to peer in between the bars of wood. He cursed silently as he squinted intently only to see nothing but another crate blocking his view. He frowned, realizing that more than likely there were three or more rows of empty crates piled one after the other. Nothing but Superman-like vision would be able to penetrate the wall of wood.

As Wesley braced himself for what could be on the other side, he was grabbed roughly from behind and tossed around the edge of the wall. He fell upon the floor, hard, nearly getting the wind knocked out of him. He coughed loudly as the dust particles that his body had disturbed on his impact began to settle down upon him. Wesley lifted himself slightly up off the floor, looking up with a groan. 

Lilah stood off to his left, gently drumming her fingers upon a makeshift table made up of several empty crates. Wesley took note of the white cloth that had been draped over half of the table. 

__

That Lilah, he thought, _always so meticulous and neat._

To his right, stood Faith, both her wrists and her ankles handcuffed securely. As if that was not enough to hold her, two of Wolfram and Hart's beefy goons each had a strong grip on each of her arms.

"Well, well, well," Lilah smirked down at Wesley. "My little hero has arrived, swooping in to try to save the damsel in distress."

She snapped her fingers, and Wesley was grabbed by the back of his collar and yanked aggressively to his feet by a third Wolfram and Hart henchman.

"You mind telling the Incredible Hulk here to lay off a little," Wesley frowned.

Lilah shrugged and motioned with her hand for the man to back away from Wesley. "I just wanted to make sure I had your attention."

"You have it," Wesley replied, tugging his T-shirt back down from his neck. "So what do you want, Lilah?"

"I was getting tired of our whole will-he-or-won't-he game. It's quite exhausting, not to mention annoying. So I decided to up the ante a little…"

"By abducting Faith," he replied, glancing over at the girl.

She appeared unhurt—no visible bruises or cuts, but then again, Lilah seemed like the type who knew how to hurt someone without leaving a single mark. 

Faith struggled slightly against her two holders, and both men ignored the look of death she gave them, their grips only tightening in response to her fiery gaze.

"Abducting is such a negative term," Lilah smiled. "I like to think of it as borrowing for negotiation purposes."

"There isn't going to be a negotiation," Wesley declared. "You're going to let her go."

"So naïve, Wesley. I thought you would have learned by now. You were never the cat in our little game. I have always been, and continue to be, the one with the power here." 

"So naïve, Lilah," Wesley countered. "Whoever said I was playing your little game to begin with?"

"That's in the past," she shrugged. "I know for a fact that you're going to play the game now."

"Really."

She nodded, sitting on the edge of the table that had been covered with the cloth, crossing her legs slowly. "See, you still believe you're a good guy. You won't let this girl die because you think it's against everything you stand for…."

"Maybe because it is."

Lilah chuckled quietly under her breath. "Well, since you want to play hero, here's how it's going to happen." She reached down and picked up a large switchblade, which had been resting upon the table. She gently trailed the point of the blade up and down her palm. "You're going to sign your life over to me, and the girl lives. If you don't…" She motioned over her shoulder, and the man to Faith's left wrapped his thick hand around her throat. "Mike there will detach her head from her cute little body."

"Sign my life…to you."

"Mm-hmm," Lilah smiled. She stood, and as she did, she retrieved a contract from the table. "A simple blood oath. You sign the bottom line, and Wolfram and Hart gets sole possession of… well, your soul."

"And if I sign and don't follow your little rules?"

"Well, you die…. But not before we extract every last bit of knowledge from that gray matter of yours." She approached him, smirking, her heels echoing eerily in the warehouse. "Wesley, you have a choice here. You can either walk away, and save your own ass. Or you can try to be the good guy you have your heart so set on being. So which is it?"

Lilah stopped within a few feet of him, and Wesley watched her silently for a moment before replying, "You forgot an option."

"Which option would that be?"

In a flash, Wesley grabbed Lilah's arm, twisting her and holding her tightly to his body. Her wrist held firmly in his, he forced her to hold the switchblade to her own neck. Her free arm was pinned to her body by Wesley's tight embrace. 

"The option where I kill you," he whispered gravely in her ear.

He turned to face the third henchman, who was making a move towards him.

"Tell him to back off," he growled.

"Back… back away," Lilah stammered. The henchman did as ordered, backing away towards the other two, who still had a tight hold on Faith. Lilah cleared her throat before adding, "You can't kill me, Wesley."

"You said it yourself, Lilah, I'm not the good guy. So what's keeping me from pushing this blade into your jugular and ending it all right here?"

Lilah remained silent.

"So, here's what I was thinking. This is my game now." He motioned towards the man who had roughed him up earlier. "You. I caught a glimpse of your gun. Slide it over to me." He added quickly, "Make one move I don't like, and I will not hesitate to slit her throat."

The man slowly pulled back the edge of his jacket, removing the gun from the waist of his slacks. He bent over slowly and slid the gun towards Wesley. The gun stopped within inches of Wesley's feet.

Wesley nodded in approval. "Now, unchain her feet, and place the handcuffs on one of your friends there."

The man did as told, unlocking the shackles around Faith's ankles. He used the cuffs to secure Mike's hands behind his back.

"Again!" Wesley barked.

The man unlocked the bindings on Faith's wrists, placing the shackles on the second man.

Once unbound, Faith pulled down her gag and smiled at Wesley. "Nice move, but this one is even nicer.…"

She turned and slugged the man on the far left, knocking him unconscious. She instantly jumped up, grabbing onto a low hanging pulley, and kicked the two remaining men in their throats. They both fell to the ground, gasping for air.

Faith released the pulley, dropping to the floor with ease. She brushed her hands together as she approached Wesley and Lilah. She grabbed the gun at their feet as Wesley finally released Lilah from his grip, pushing her to the ground. 

"You okay?" he asked.

"Five by five, man," she smiled.

She turned her attention to Lilah, who was still sprawled out on the floor, and the playful smile turned into a menacing frown. Faith towered over her, aiming the gun at her head. 

"You won't shoot me," Lilah sneered, her voice filled with professionalism as she tossed her hair confidently over her shoulder

"Apparently, you don't know me very well," Faith replied, releasing the safety on the gun.

"Apparently, you really liked that little jail cell of yours," Lilah laughed, slowly getting to her feet. "Kill me, and you'll never see daylight again. I guarantee you that." 

Faith growled under her breath, but Wesley's hand reached out for hers. He placed his hand on top of hers, lowering the muzzle of the gun.

"She's not worth it," he replied gently. "Believe me."

Faith hesitated before releasing the gun into Wesley's hands. 

Lilah smoothed down her skirt as she replied, "See, always rescuing the damsel in distress."

"It's not you I'm rescuing," he replied. He motioned to Faith, and they walked out of the warehouse, leaving Lilah alone with her shackled and unconscious guards.

**********

"I've never really had a use for it," Wesley admitted as he and Faith cleared out his spare bedroom.

"Tell me about it," Faith groaned, carrying a box marked "occult" out of the room and placing it against the wall in the hallway. "Ever heard of storage?"

The room had been stocked full with boxes containing everything from journals to weapons, but now, with an hour of cleaning behind them, the room was starting to resemble somewhere livable. Faith stood in the doorway, pleased to finally see at least three-fourths of what was going to be her room.

After their encounter with Lilah, Wesley had made a passing comment about his extra bedroom. When she hadn't replied, he had added quietly, "It's yours, if you want." Faith had just smiled, accepting with a nod. It was just nice to have a place to call home again. A place with someone she could trust….

"Faith?" Wesley asked, approaching her, a rag draped over his shoulder. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she grinned, snapping out of her thoughts. "I was just thinking.…"

"May I ask what about?"

Faith hesitated before replying, "About how action-packed these few days have been."

Wesley chuckled. "Tell me about it." He turned, making his way back to a corner of the room in an attempt to clear out the last of the boxes.

"So, how did it go with Cordelia?" she asked, continuing to linger in the doorway.

He glanced at her over his shoulder, a slight frown on his face. "It… went."

"Not good, huh?"

"You could say that," he mumbled.

"You know, Wesley," Faith sighed, "I'm all about the whole lone-wolf deal. That's me, but… But it's not you. You've always had this little dysfunctional family to turn to, and it worked for you. It worked for everybody."

Wesley turned to her as she continued. "I'm not saying you all should just be all lovey-dovey and sing kumbayah with each other, but don't you think you all should just sit down and deal with each other? I'm kinda alien to the whole family thing, but isn't that what they do? Just kinda accept each other, even the parts that piss each other off?"

"In some families, Faith," he replied, solemnly, his mind trailing to his final words with Cordelia. "Not all of them."

Faith simply nodded in response.

Tossing his rag onto a box in the middle of the floor, Wesley approached her, asking, "You thirsty?"

"Sure, I guess."

Wesley nodded and walked down the hallway towards the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator door, grabbing two bottles of cola. Making his way back towards the bedroom, he glanced at the phone lying on the couch where he had left it. He picked up the phone with his free hand, tapping his thumb gently against the buttons.

He hesitated a moment before dialing.

It rang three times before the familiar voice spoke into his ear. "Angel Investigations. This is Cordelia, how can we help you?"

Wesley waited a moment.

"Hello?"

Then, he hung up, laying the phone back upon the couch with a sigh.

__

Some families, he thought as he made his way back down the hallway, _but not mine_.


End file.
